


it starts with the yukata

by 06seconds_left



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 02:47:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2412176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/06seconds_left/pseuds/06seconds_left
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hmm?" Suyama smiles, a slow, easy curl of his lips, and the only warning Hanai gets. "Oh, I was just thinking about how nice you look in that yukata."</p>
            </blockquote>





	it starts with the yukata

Hanai thumbs the remote, watching the television screen flicker as he switches rapidly from channel to channel. “Isn’t there anything nice on?”

When his question is met with nothing but silence, Hanai turns to the face the only other occupant of the room,

And realises that Suyama is kind of…just…staring at him.

Hanai frowns, feeling the telltale of heat rushing to his cheeks. “Uh, Suyama?”

He blinks, startled. “Sorry, I was lost in thought. You were saying?”

"Just that there’s nothing interesting on tonight." He raises an eyebrow at the other man, suspicious. "What’s on your mind?"

"Hmm?" Suyama smiles, a slow, easy curl of his lips, and the only warning Hanai gets. "Oh, I was just thinking about how nice you look in that yukata."

Hanai stiffens, blood rushing to his face. “W-what? Where did  _that_ come from?”

"Actually, I’ve been thinking about it all evening," Suyama says, propping his chin up on one hand. “It just never came up.”

He responds with a strange garble of flustered spluttering that sounds unintelligible even to himself, but Suyama only throws his head back and laughs, obviously enjoying his reaction.

Hanai scowls. Damn it. How come _he’s_ always the one getting embarrassed by all the weird things Suyama says?

….well, two can play that game.

With a determined nod to himself, Hanai leans across the table, reaching out to grab the collar of Suyama’s yukata and tugging him forward. The other man’s laughter recedes into a surprised “oh”, lost in the air as Hanai mashes their lips together.

Hanai kisses him insistently, a demanding press of mouth against mouth. He feels Suyama smile, lips curling against his own as the other man responds, tilting his head slightly for a better angle. The other man hums, pleased, and Hanai can feel himself relaxing, all previous irritation melting away at the quiet sound.

When Suyama pulls back, Hanai instinctively tries to follow, and is stopped by the firm edge of the table jabbing him in the stomach. He flinches back, one hand flying to massage the wounded spot, only to flush warmer when Suyama chuckles.

“Here,” Suyama says, standing up. He walks around the table, moving to kneel beside Hanai, chin tilted upwards. “This is better, right?”

Hanai scowls, less from actual annoyance and more out of reflex. Not one to be outdone, he shifts in place, turning to properly face the other man. He reaches out, tugs the other man by the arm until Suyama is fully seated in his lap. “Now it is,” Hanai says, enjoying the way Suyama’s cheeks have gone a little pink.

“You know,” he says, eyebrows raised in a thoughtful expression, “I think you’re right.”

Hanai realises his mistake a beat too late, and can only yelp in surprise as a hand slips between the folds of his yukata, sliding warm over his bare chest. He closes his eyes, pressing into the touch with a shiver, and completely misses what Suyama’s free hand is doing until the other man tugs at his sleeves.

“Somebody’s impatient,” he mumbles, letting the yukata slide off his shoulders. “I thought you said I—the yukata looked good.”

“To be precise, I said _you_ looked good in the yukata,” Suyama replies, wearing a smile that implies he knows _exactly_ what Hanai had avoided saying. “But it’s also in the way, so. Off it goes.”

“Oh my god,” he says, slapping a palm over his burning face. “I swear, you’re so— _ugh._ ”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think that was an insult,” Suyama answers nonchalantly, tugging at his hand. When their gazes meet once more, his smile twitches wider, and he leans forward to drop a quick peck on Hanai’s cheek.

He groans, screwing his eyes shut, and hopes that maybe, just maybe, if he denies it hard enough, he’ll stop blushing like he’s still a pathetic teenager.

Suyama laughs again. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop teasing you now.”

With a loud sigh, he reaches up to cup Suyama’s jaw as he pulls him in for a deep kiss. The other man meets him willingly, and he returns both hands to exploring Hanai’s freshly-exposed skin. Fingers skim butterfly-light along his collarbones, dancing down his sternum and in the dips between his ribs. Suyama presses closer, thumbing at Hanai’s nipples, making him gasp.

Hanai breaks the kiss, ducking down to mouth at Suyama’s neck. He lets his teeth graze the strip of skin there, nipping gently at the spot he knows best, and feels a rush of triumph as Suyama arches against him. The other man doesn’t stop, his hands busy with Hanai’s skin, but he does tilt his head back in clear invitation. Hanai accepts eagerly, pressing his lips to Suyama’s throat and sucking until the other man breathes out a moan. The sound trills down his spine, makes his stomach curl with anticipation, and reminds him how horribly unfair it is that Suyama is still fully dressed.

“Hey,” Hanai pants out, tugging insistently at Suyama’s yukata. “Come on. Your turn.”

Suyama blinks at him, cheeks flushed. He pulls back, hands dropping to his belt, before pausing. “Hanai,” he says, “didn’t you say there aren’t any nice shows tonight?”

“Well yeah,” he replies, nodding at the television. “They’re all news.”

The other man hums, and leans in to whisper in his ear. “Then,” he murmurs, voice dropping low, “how about I give you something to watch?”

_ “H-hah?” _

Suyama smiles at him, and for a moment, Hanai thinks he’s misunderstood because that expression is far too innocent, and completely contradicts the images flitting through Hanai’s mind.

Except—

Suyama shifts in his lap, spreading his legs a little wider as he begins loosening the belt of his yukata. Hanai watches, transfixed, as Suyama tosses the obi onto the table, before carefully peeling his yukata aside. His movements are slow, deliberate, as he shrugs the yukata off, back arching to let the fabric slide down his shoulders, catching around his elbows to pool over his hips. And really the whole thing shouldn’t be that _sexy,_ but Hanai’s always been a little weak to anything and everything Suyama.

Especially at moments like these, when the other man is eyeing him from beneath lowered lashes, chin tucked in a posture that is deceitfully demure as he asks softly, “Help me out?”

And even though he clearly doesn’t need it, Hanai finds himself reaching out anyway, holding the yukata in place so Suyama can pull his hands free. He flings the yukata onto the tatami mats with a sudden vengeance, then wraps his arms around Suyama’s waist, tugging him close.

“What happened to no more teasing?” Hanai mutters into his shoulder.

“Did that count as teasing?” Suyama asks. “I was aiming for foreplay. Maybe—”

Hanai slaps a hand over the other man’s mouth. “Stop,” he groans, “please just stop there.”

He chuckles, the sound fluttering in Hanai’s palm and merging into a soft kiss, before Suyama pulls away.

Hanai lets him go, tracing the knobs of his lover’s spine with his fingers. “Hey,” he murmurs. “You wanna—?”

“Yeah,” Suyama answers.

Reaching back, he braces one arm against the floor, pulls his partner down with him until they’re both lying flat on the tatami mats. Suyama wriggles on top of him, pushes himself up with his arms so he can grin down at Hanai, and Hanai just—

— _stares_ —at the dusting of pink across Suyama’s cheeks, and the way light spills over him, casting shadows across his face. He stares at the delicious curves of Suyama’s shoulders, and the line of muscle winding down his arms; Hanai stares at Suyama’s smile, sees the reflection of it in Suyama’s eyes, as his eyelids dip low, soft and private.

Suyama brushes a thumb over his cheek, ever so gently.

Hanai swallows hard, drags him back down for another kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please go [here](http://oldbridges.tumblr.com/post/98974231853/suyanai-at-an-onsen-we-said) and admire Bridges' beautiful art.
> 
> I know all my titles suck. Please forgive me.


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